


Ambrosia

by AkaShika



Series: Harry Potter Smut/Oneshots [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vampire Hermione Granger, d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 22:11:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaShika/pseuds/AkaShika
Summary: Hermione's been away in Romania for a year, when she comes back, all she wants is Tom





	Ambrosia

**Author's Note:**

> I hate this, enjoy!

Tom should have known that the little boy with green eyes who followed him around the orphanage would end up killing him. 

Well, no.

That wasn’t fair. 

Harry wasn’t the one who was going to kill him but his best in-house friend (not his best friend, that was Tom) may find a way to kill him from desire; from sheer want. 

And gods did he want her. 

He’d wanted her since he was sixteen and in the last ten years, she’d only got more fit. He watched her walk up the path, hand her bag to Draco like he was a coat-check employee and kiss Harry on the cheek. He watched as Harry’s hand slipped down the the bottom of her back as he whispered something in her ear before he led her to Tom. 

She was wearing a leather jacket, a top that was barely more than a bra, short black linen shorts and heels that made her legs look like they lasted for days. He wanted to bury his face between her thighs and make her scream his name.

“You remember Hermione, Tom.”

She was also wearing a smirk that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Slytherin. 

He kissed her hand in greeting, noticing she felt slightly cold but ignoring it and the fact that she was clearly not wearing a bra. 

“Darling,” Harry said. “Don’t kill him, I have go reassure Draco, again, that I’m not going to run off with you.”

Tom narrowed his eyes at Harry’s retreating back and, for the most part, realised how long it had been since he’d seen Hermione. Over a year at least. Harry had said she was studying in Romania, which wasn’t unlikely. Most of the east of Europe had Dark Arts specialties, but Tom had studied in some of the oldest Pureblood libraries and Harry knew that. 

“Don’t take it personally, Tom,” Hermione said as she twisted her fingers between his and her smirk changed to a smile. “He just knows how badly I want to suck you.”

Tom hated that smile, it was the same one Harry wore when he had a secret.

He let her pull him towards an empty room as he thought about how he couldn’t wait to get her out of her top, to undo her shorts as he teased her through the linen, to make her moan and scream and cry and beg for him to take her. 

Only when he was done, he decided, would he let her suck him like she wanted, then he’d fuck her face just to be sure she knew he couldn’t be teased like this. 

_ The heels _ , he thought,  _ she could keep _ . 

The couch in this room was like so many others in Malfoy Manor. Ostentatious and old and so very good to bend someone over the arm of if they deserved a spanking. 

Tom shut the door behind him and then span Hermione to press her against it. He kissed her like he was trying to steal the breath from her lungs but when he pulled back, gasping and desperately wanting to taste more of her, she didn’t seem to be affected. 

The pupils of her dark eyes dilated as he watched her and he felt like he would do anything for her. 

“Tell me you want me, Tom,” she said in a low, hypnotic voice. 

“I want you,” Tom said. He blinked and tried to figure out why he said it at all. He watched as she bit into her blood-red lip with a single, sharp canine as she tried to hide a smile. He leant into her touch as she ran her hand through his hair. 

“Good boy,” she told him and he preened while some part of his brain tried to yell at him for acting like a lovesick puppy. “Undress me,” she said. “But don’t do anything else just yet.”

He didn’t bother to nod, he simply slipped his hands over her shoulders, pushing her jacket to the floor before running his hands down her sides and around her back to untie the bandeau that covered her small, pert breasts. He wanted nothing more at that moment to take one of her pebbled nipples in his mouth, to tease it, bite it, soothe it with his tongue, but he had his orders ( _ orders? _ ) and instead he let one hand trail across her firm stomach, using a single finger and his tumb to undo the button before allowing his hands to push them down her pale thighs.

She stepped out of the shorts when they pooled around her feet and made her way to the couch. She looked back over her shoulder and Tom had the brief thought that she looked like a demon, a succubus, before the thought left him. 

She sat down and crossed her legs, as if Tom hadn’t already seen everything, and with a teasing smile, she crooked her finger signalling for him to come forward. 

He moved like he was drunk, there was a desperation to get closer ( _ run _ ), to bask in her presence ( _ run! _ ) and accept anything she deigned to give him ( _ RUN! _ ). He wanted to fall at her feet, he wanted to worship her, he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. 

“Make me come, Tom,” she said as he stood in front of her. She spread her milky thighs and allowed him to look at her fully, letting him take in just how wet she was from having him under her control. She ran a hand down to her cunt and used two fingers to spread her slick folds. 

Tom fell to his knees and eagerly descended upon her, groaning when he tasted her and letting his tongue dive inside her, desperate to taste more. 

She would her hands in his hair and held him close to her, directing his mouth where she wanted it and gasping when he dragged his tongue back and forth over her clit before sucking it gently into his mouth and flicking it quickly with his tongue. 

“Use your fingers,” she gasped as she threw one bare leg over his shoulder and pulled him closer. 

He hummed in response and. teasingly, one finger entered her, twisting and stroking her with every slow thrust. 

“More,” she growled. She wanted to feel him, she wanted to taste him, she wanted to tease him until he couldn’t take it anymore and instead took from her what she knew he wanted. 

With two fingers inside her, beckoning her towards the edge, and his mouth on her cunt, she knew she’d come soon. She stopped thinking about what she wanted and instead let herself feel as the wave crept up on her and crested, bringing her orgasm crashing through her. 

He stroked her through it, each brush of his fingers or tongue making her shudder until finally she pushed him away. 

“Strip.”

The word came out almost breathlessly, but her seduction gave it weight and still he did as he was told. 

She couldn’t wait until he would do it without the influence of her charms. When he was naked in front of her, she couldn’t help but admire him. She ran one foot up a long, lean leg, her toes brushed his bollocks and she bit her lower lip as she looked up at him through her lashes, as she watched him suppress a whimper as she plays with his hard length. 

She stood quickly, she doesn’t want to keep him under her spell, since she was turned, she hated using her new “natural” powers. She ran her hands up his arms and around his neck, crossing them at the elbow behind his head and slowly lifted her influence over him.

His eyes widened and his lip curled into a snarl as he lifts her, her legs wrap around his waist and he guided his cock inside her so he could fuck her while he yelled at her. 

“I. Thought. I. Told. You. To. Keep. Me. Under.” he said. Each word was punctuated with a thrust inside her and she whimpered when gravity brought her slight form down on him. Tom takes two steps away from the sofa and Hermione gasps when she feels the cold glass of the french windows in the room against her back and her arse. 

“Tom.”

“Quiet,” he told her. “I wanted you in charge, Hermione.” He held on to her hips as he moved in and out of her quickly. “I wanted to be your slave, your fucking dream. I wanted to do anything you said and you. Let. It. Go.” He slipped his hand between them to bring her off quickly, she threw her head back, gasping and moaning and begging, heedless of anything other than his cock and his hand. 

After she comes again, he lets her stand and spins her around. Her breasts are pressed against the glass and she hopes that no one decides that a walk in Draco’s moonlit garden is a good idea.

He fed his cock back inside her and pulled her against his chest. He kissed her shoulder and neck, he bit down on skin and soothed it with his tongue and when he finally started fucking her like he meant it, not like he was angry at her, she could feel his lips moving on his skin as he mouthed words he’d never say aloud. 

“Oh god,” she said, the second she saw moonlight reflect off pale blond hair. “Tom, Tom, we have to move.”

Tom looked up, first to her reflection in the glass, then beyond it. His expression changed from one of desperation to a cocky grin that he wore a lot in school, that Hermione hated and he dragged one hand down her stomach to her quim. 

“Are you getting wetter, Hermione?” he asked. “Is the thought of Draco and Harry, your best friend, catching you being fucked half to life again making you want more?”

Hermione could barely keep her legs under her as Tom spoke. 

“Do you want to press your tits against the glass again for them?” he asked. “How about your cunt? Do you want to leave a little remind here for them in the shape of your come all over Draco’s French windows?”

Hermione tried to hold back a whimper. She was slipping. She was supposed to be the one in control tonight. 

She came once more around Tom’s cock before he pulled out of her and pushed her to her knees. 

“Show me how good that pretty, little vampire mouth is at sucking, Hermione,” Tom said as she turned to face him, her hair wild, and her eyes dark with lust. 

She let him trace the head of his cock, glistening with her come and his, across her cheek and over her lips. She flicked out her tongue to get just a taste and moaned when Tom fisted his hand in her hair. Never, in all her existence, had she felt like this, like a wanton whore, waiting for permission and desperate for it. 

“Show me how good you are, baby,” Tom said as he dipped his cock into her mouth and let her suck him at her own pace as he stroked her cheek and her hair.

The best thing, Hermione thought, about being a vampire, especially in this situation, was her distinct lack of needing to breathe. There was no need for Tom to pull out of her mouth in case she choked on him, he could just use her and if that didn’t make her wetter than that Atlantic then there was something wrong with her. 

Despite what they had told their friends, Hermione and Tom had been together often, often enough that Hermione could tell while he was in her mouth that he was close to coming. 

She pulled off him and he let out a low growl.

“Do you trust me,” she asked as she ran her hand up and down his length, rolling her palm over the head and giving his foreskin a gentle tug.

He nodded and gazed down at her, He watched as she kissed and licked her way to his inner thigh and at the exact moment he came, she bit him, her fangs extended and she fed from the thick vein.

When she licked the wound closed, he sank to the floor next to her. 

“That was new,” he said after a moment. 

“You tasted fantastic. Like ambrosia.”

“You didn’t keep me under the whole time,” Tom said as he stroked her sweaty hair back from her face and summoned his jacket for her. “Was that your fault or mine?”

“Mine,” Hermione said with a grimace. “It feels wrong.”

“Well, Tom said with a smirk. “It’s a good job you don’t really need the Seduction to make me do what you want, isn’t it?” 


End file.
